Blooming Passion •• Ryan Tedder {1}

A Sweet Pair

Ryan's P.O.V.

A couple of days later, a sunny Friday of late March, Ryan was driving Ramona to the hospital. They were going to find out certain results. It didn't matter that she took two tests and it was highly unlikely that they'd both be false, but they still had to know.

Ryan mostly did it for her, too. He knew how unlikely it was. But he did for her because it was not impossible for her to still not be pregnant.

Ryan shuddered at the very word. Not because Ramona could have someone inside of her, growing and a soon-to-be actual human (granted, knowing Ramona and who she was, it was a bit odd), but because it was a product of Shawn and what horrid thing he did to her.

However, if Ramona is truly pregnant and later decides to keep it and not put it up for adoption, by slim chance, Ryan would help her take care of it. Besides, what could be of their relationship then? Maybe they'd be together and it would be his duty then, he'd be obligated to do so. He wouldn't mind. He loves the woman beside him and he'll try to love the child too.

After all, there's no way he'd let Ramona go back to Shawn now that she's probably got his kid. Ryan wasn't really going to let her anyway, but how bad would it be that she'd go back to him pregnant? Ryan can already see what'd happen. She'd go, then tell him, and in a fit of rage Shawn would beat her and most likely cause a miscarriage. And how much damage would Ramona be under then? Shawn's done enough. In fact, he's just done.

"Are you okay?" Rung a woman's voice in his ear. Ryan turned for a moment and saw Ramona, eyes tired but worried with black eyeliner surrounding them, blue hair in a low bun.

"Yeah. Just thinking." Ryan nodded, turning back to the road. He briefly wondered if he still drove well even through his deep thoughts.

"About?" Ramona asked on his right.

"Uh...just...stuff." Ryan trailed off. He adjusted the sunglasses on his face. He saw Ramona cross her legs.

"Stuff?" She questioned. Ryan shrugged, "Yeah."

There was a pause. Ryan glanced at the clock. It was only 8:45, roughly.

"How'd you sleep?" He broke the silence.

"Not well." Ramona answered honestly. Her answer was what Ryan figured.

"I'm sorry. But you might not be pregnant. And whether or not you are, it'll be okay." He turned to her. He saw her hands sitting in her lap and wanted to hold one. He didn't reach forward and kept his hands on the steering wheel. But at his response, Ramona smiled a little. Then she looked away from him and out the window, squinting at the sun outside.

"You want my sunglasses?" He offered at this. Ramona only muttered, "No."

Ryan mentally sighed. They arrived at the hospital about half an hour later, Ryan patiently heading through the Los Angeles traffic.

As the two of them reached a waiting room on the third floor, Ramona filled out whatever papers they gave her on a clipboard with a black pen with a fake pink rose taped to it, and Ryan sat beside her, scrolling through Twitter on his phone.

Just ten minutes after Ramona turned the clipboard into the lady at the front desk, a short, dark-skinned nurse with poofy, curly, black hair came out and called, "Ramona!"

Both Ramona and Ryan looked up, and as Ramona got up, she looked at Ryan a moment and he gave her a reassuring look and nodded. Then she turned away and went to the nurse standing at the door. As Ramona walked past her, Ryan watched as the nurse smiled, put a hand on her back, and asked something. Then the door closed.